A/N: Okay, here's the deal. I'm going to leave "Revolution" as a oneshot and work on this instead. Don't expect every chapter to be as long as this one, but expect me to make my way around to everyone in turn :) Thank you so much for all your support, especially your amazing response to "Revolution." Love you guys!

Enjoy! And, of course, leave any thoughts/suggestions at the end!

"We should tell Angela first," Brennan suggests, her fingers idly playing with the Saint Christopher's medallion around Booth's neck. "She's my best friend. She should know first."

"Of course," Booth agrees, smiling down at her. He's propped himself up with on an elbow, leaning into his pillow as he runs a hand down her side. He fingers the hem of her shirt—his shirt on her—and can't help but laugh. "But we need to tell your dad as soon as possible, because if he thinks I've knocked you up, he's going to come in here with a shotgun and murder me."

She laughs too and nods. "That would be undesirable."

Booth gazes affectionately at her. "Yeah, it would. 'Cause I'd been planning to spend the rest of my life with you, and getting killed would suck."

She flushes slightly, and it's the most adorable thing he's ever seen. Even a couple of days later—days filled with him sending her not-so-subtle compliments and promises of a lifetime—she doesn't seem to have really grasped the fact that he's in this. Completely, unchangeably in this, more with her than he has been with anyone in his entire life.

How can a guy be so lucky?

"I'll deal with my father," she says decisively after a moment. "If he tries to hurt you, I'll make sure to reprimand him."

At that, Booth rolls his eyes. "I doubt a reprimand will be much good when I'm six feet under."

She hits him lightly on the shoulder, trying to glare, but her eyes give her away. They're gleaming with laughter, and he can't help but laugh too.

"I'll be sure to thank you from heaven, Bones," he chuckles, and she hits him again.

"He won't hurt you," she corrects. "I'll make sure he won't."

Trying not to smile, he nods in grave satisfaction and says, "Good, because he listens to you. On that note, you should probably be the one to tell him."

At this, a flicker of worry shoots across her face, and she stops spinning his medallion and just lays her hand on his chest. "You'll be with me though, right?" she asks, a hint of anxiety in her voice. "When we tell everyone? I don't want to…"

"Do it alone?" he guesses, giving her a gentle smile. "Bones, you're not doing anything alone from here on out." With a quiet chuckle, he adds, "I'm going to be just as annoying as Hodgins was with Angela. You won't even be able to tie your shoes without me butting in and trying to help. You'll think I'm the most annoying guy on the face of the planet by the time this ends. In fact, you're probably going to be sick of me by the time this week ends."

She returns his smile and touches his medallion again, watching it catch the early morning sunlight. "Good. I'm glad."

"Be glad," he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss against her lips before swinging out of bed and glancing at the clock. Ten thirty-two. "Damn it, I'm late."

She sits up too but doesn't throw off the covers. "Are you going to be in trouble?"

Booth shakes his head and rummages quickly through his drawers for a tie. "Nah. I had a meeting, but that's okay." Sending her a wide grin, he adds, "Missing it was worth it."

She smiles back and starts to say his name, but halfway through it, her face contorts, and she throws up a hand to clap it over her mouth. It's been a long time since Rebecca and Parker's birth, but Booth recognizes the symptoms immediately. Dropping his tie, he grabs Bones' arm and propels her to the bathroom, just barely managing to toss the toilet seat up before she leans over and throws up what's left of her dinner from the night before. He sweeps back her hair and holds it as she bends over the toilet, her face almost green.

Coughing, she spits and shakes her head, disgust contorting her expression. "I find that morning sickness is just as abhorrent as Angela made it sound."

Chuckling, Booth pats her back and asks, "Is it over?"

"I still feel a little nauseous, but I think the worst of it is over." With a groan, she leans back away from the toilet and closes her eyes.

He gives her a quick kiss on the forehead and stands. "All right. Stay here, and I'll get you some water."

When he gets back, glass of water in hand, she's still sitting on the floor of his bathroom, her eyes shut. He lowers himself silently to sit next to her and hands her the water. With a thankful smile, she rinses out her mouth, spits the water out in the sink, and comes to sit next to him again, downing the rest of the glass in a few thirsty gulps.

"Here," he says, handing her the tray in his other hand.

She takes it slowly, puzzled. "What's this for?"

"When Rebecca had morning sickness," he explains, "it helped her to suck on ice cubes."

Brennan gives him a skeptical look. "There's no scientific evidence to prove—"

"Just do it, Bones," Booth interrupts, popping one off the tray and shoving it in her mouth. She gives him a surprised glare for a moment before mutinously spitting the ice cube out on her hand.

"This is illogical—"

He takes another one and pushes it into her open mouth, fighting a smile at her wide-eyed look of surprise. "You're having a baby, Bones. You're going to have to deal with illogical."

With an expression that comes incredibly close to pouting, she gurgles something around the ice cube, and he laughs, shaking his head at how cute she is. They fall into a comfortable silence as she sucks on the ice cube, and he takes her hand, giving it a squeeze. She stands to tilt the other ice cube on her hand into the sink before returning to her spot beside him.

Finally, when the ice cube seems to have melted, Brennan says logically, "I'm the one having the baby. I should decide what to do with my body, and that includes what I ingest."

Booth chuckles and shakes his head. "Doesn't work that way, Bones. I'm the one who's going to have to deal with your hormones, so I get to have a say in what happens to you. And I'm just trying to make you feel better, so if I say eat an ice cube, eat an ice cube."

After a moment, she gives him a weak smile, and he notices the edge to it right away. "Bones?" he asks, ready to push her to the toilet again. "Feeling nauseous again?"

"No," she says quietly, shaking her head. "It's just…" With a sigh, she leans her head on his shoulder and shifts closer to him. "What if I'm not ready for this?"

Oh, Bones. It seems like the energy and excitement from two days past when she first told him has passed. She's finally crashing back into reality, and that familiar fear is back in her eyes. He'd known this part would come eventually, and he knows the most he can do now is lend her his support.

"Bones," he says gently, wrapping her in a one-armed hug. "No one's ever ready for a baby. Even the women who try for one aren't ready. Nothing can prepare you for this, but that's okay, because you're literally made for this. Women are made for childbirth, right? Evolutionary advantages and that stuff?"

She laughs softly against his shirt. "Yes, evolutionary advantages and that stuff."

"Exactly." He rubs her arm and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "You're the strongest person I know, Bones. Angela did it, and you can do it too."

"Angela has a husband to support her."

"And you have me." Hiding a smile, he feigns offense and protests, "You aren't giving me enough credit, Bones. Having me is better than having a Hodgins. There's evidence to prove it."

She gives him a curious look. "I'd like to hear it."

He holds up a finger. "For one thing, I've got experience. I have a kid, and I've been through this before. It's old territory for me, Bones. For another, I bet we've been through more together than Angela and Hodgins have, and if we can get through things like the Gravedigger and Broadsky, we can get through this. And lastly—this is my trump card—I'm just the best." Grinning his wide, cocky smile, he swings around to kiss her. "I'm the best thing for you, Bones. Not Hodgins and not anyone else. You're mine, and I'm yours, and that's why you're going to do just fine."

That nervous expression frozen in her eyes, she stares at him for a long moment. Then, finally, she lets out a little sigh and leans on his arm again, closing her eyes. "I know."

"Good." He kisses her head again and murmurs, "You know I want to sit here with you forever and debate the merits of eating ice cubes, but I have a job to do and so do you. I'll try to get off early today though." Standing, he pulls her to her feet and puts out a hand to steady her. "Better?"

With a brighter smile, she nods. "Much better. Luckily, morning sickness shouldn't last much longer than twelve weeks. Still, I am not looking forward to the next couple of months."

Booth grins back and replies, "Well, I'm not looking forward to your mood swings, so welcome to motherhood. You put up with your vomiting and I'll put up with your celery soup ice cream, deal?"

"Celery soup ice cream?" Brennan repeats with a grimace. "That sounds…unhealthy, to say the least."

He shrugs with a laugh. "That's what Rebecca craved when she had Parker. You're the one who's going to look like a bowling pin in a few months, so I'm not judging." He helps her back to the bed before shrugging off his shirt and into a white dress shirt. "I don't have any pressing cases right now, so I should be back before six."

"Take your time," she answers, rising too and collecting her clothes from the floor. "I have a skeleton to reconstruct, and if my original analysis of the damage was correct, it should take a while."

"Fine." Booth kicks off his pajama pants, pulls on his slacks, and searches for his belt. After a moment, Bones picks it up from under one of the pillows they kicked on the floor and hands it to him. Tying his tie quickly, he asks, "You want me to bring you lunch? Twelve-thirty sound good to you?"

"Sounds great." She hesitates for a second before suggesting slowly, "Maybe we could go tell Angela then."

He stops, a yellow-striped sock in hand. "What?"

Embarrassment and uncertainty flit across her face, and she turns away. "Nothing. I just thought we could maybe tell her today. Never mind."

"No, no, no, Bones." He crosses the room and pulls her back to face him. "That's not what I meant. I was just surprised." He hadn't expected Bones to want to tell everyone so soon. Next week maybe, when they'd sorted things out, but not today. Not now. But if she's ready to take the step, then so is he. He's damn excited. "It's a great idea. Let's tell her today."

She searches his face, her eyes wide and apprehensive. "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?" He kisses her hard, just to let her know how sure he is. "Of course I am, Bones! I can't wait to see her face. Twelve-thirty, okay? We'll drive over to her house. Don't you dare tell her without me." Releasing her with a grin, he turns and throws back the covers on the bed. "Have you seen my other sock?"

After a moment, she loses the guarded look and smiles brightly at him. "Yes, it's over by the bathroom door."

He smiles back and gives her a quick kiss. "Thanks."

Twelve-thirty comes too slowly. She's nervous and worried about how everyone else will react, but then she remembers how Booth looked when she told him—that pure, joyful laugh of disbelief and then giddy excitement—and she's confident all over again. She's not alone, and she won't have to tell anyone alone, and that makes it all right.

But it also makes the wait agonizing. Although twelve-thirty is hardly an hour away, time seems to pass sluggishly all morning. Even the bones can't hold her attention for long, and every time she thinks of Angela's reaction, her heart leaps in her chest. The artist reacted incredulously enough when Brennan had told her about the night after Vincent's death. A baby…Angela will be beyond ecstatic. Brennan finds herself surprisingly eager to see it.

Finally, finally, Booth appears in the doorway of the lab, his tie loosened and a bag of takeout in his hand. When he spots her, his smile seems to light up the room, and he crosses over to the base of the platform, calling up, "You ready, Bones?"

"I've been ready," she answers gladly, stripping off her latex gloves. "Let's go."

In the car, Booth makes sure her seatbelt is secure and comfortable before pulling out of the parking lot. He glances over at her and gives her a wide smile. "We're really doing this. We're having a baby."

"I'm having the baby," she reminds him with a grin. "You're just watching."

"Believe me, Bones, I'm going to feel this as much as you do," he replies.

She gives him a puzzled look. "I assure you, you won't be feeling any of the pain I will. For one thing, your body doesn't have the sexual organs required to replicate the events of pregnancy. For another—"

"Emotionally, Bones, emotionally," Booth interrupts with a laugh. "I'm going through the same thing emotionally, and that's half of it already."

She sees his point. "Oh. All right." Then, after a moment, she asks, "How are we going to do this?"

He pauses. "Do what? Give them the news?" At her nod, he says, "I guess we tell her straight out. Tell them straight out. Hodgins should be with her, right?"

"Yes, he's taking the week off to stay with her." Imagining the moment, she says, "So what do we do, exactly? Do we tell them right away? Or should we exchange pleasantries first? To lessen the shock? Emotional stress wouldn't be conducive to Angela's health right now, even after having the baby."

"Angela's strong," Booth chuckles. "I'm sure she'll make it. You let me worry about the pleasantries and just focus on dealing with your friend, okay? It'll be fine, Bones. Just breathe."

"I'm breathing," she assures him. She's not apprehensive for Angela's reaction, really, because she knows it'll be positive. Angela might be more excited than Booth had been, if that's possible. What she wants to do now is concentrate on memorizing the moment. It'll be a moment to remember forever, she's sure of it, because the seven years of her partnership with Booth have been leading up to this. This situation, this opportunity. This twist of fate.

Her thoughts are cut off when Booth pulls up into the driveway of the house, cutting the engine as he stops in front of the door. Taking the keys from the ignition, he holds his hand out to her. "Ready?"

With a breath, she gives his fingers a squeeze and answers, "Yes."

Hoping to look nonchalant, she stands anxiously on the porch as Booth knocks. They can hear someone stumble down the stairs with a curse before the front door opens, revealing a rumpled, disheveled Hodgins with a suspicious yellow stain all down the front of his shirt.

"Booth? Doctor B?" He gives them both wary looks. "Don't tell me there's a case."

"No case," Booth says cheerfully, clapping Hodgins on the shoulder. "Is that barf?"

Glancing down at the yellow stain, Hodgins groans aloud. "Yes, it is. This baby thing is a lot harder than the training classes made it sound. I haven't gotten three hours of sleep in the last two days."

"Hang in there, man," Booth reassures him. "It gets better." Taking Brennan by the arm, he asks, "Is Angela in there?"

Hodgins nods. "Where else would she be? Between her post-pregnancy mood swings and the baby's crying, I'm all worn down. Thank God you two came."

"We have something to tell you, actually," Brennan starts, striving for her scientist voice. "I'm—"

"—coming in," Booth finishes quickly, sending her a look and a shake of his head. Not yet. Nodding slowly, she follows him into the spacious house, nearly tripping over a battalion of toys in the hallway. Booth holds her arm to steady her as they slowly make their way through the maze of colorful blocks and toy trains.

"What's with the Toys 'R' Us in the hall?" Booth asks, raising an eyebrow. "Parker had three favorite toys and that was it."

Hodgins sighs heavily. "Angela wants everything for our kid, and when I say everything, I mean everything. She's running us broke, and he's barely two days old. Come on, she's back here."

Leaning back, Booth says in a whisper, "Our kid's getting a few favorite toys, and that's it. I'm not breaking a leg every time I walk down the hall."

"I agree," she whispers back, loving the sound of how he says our kid. It makes her tingle with excitement all over again for the next nine months and beyond.

"Here," Hodgins announces, pushing open the door at the end of the hall. It's apparently the nursery, with the animals stenciled in on the walls and the crib in the corner. Angela's sitting on the floor with Michael between her legs, and when she spots them, her face lights up.

"Bren!" she exclaims. "Booth! I was wondering when you'd come visit me."

"Hi," Brennan says, somewhat shyly. She finds it difficult to keep her eyes away from the baby and to keep from thinking that in less than a year, she'll have this too. This happiness, this fulfillment. Coming further into the room, she sits across from Angela and says, "I wanted to come see you and the baby. And…" She turns to glance at Booth and at his confirmatory nod, she adds, "…and I wanted to tell you something."

"You want me to grab you a beer?" Hodgins asks Booth in the doorway. "We can go to the kitchen while the girls have their girl talk."

Booth grabs his sleeve and shakes his head. "I think you're going to want to be here for this."

Angela nods, her eyes flicking from Booth to Brennan. "Okay. What is it?"

"I understand that in the event of your delivery, this news may be surprising," Brennan starts. "And I do not intend to emotionally stress you in any way, so please try to remain calm. Heightened emotional states could be detrimental to your recovery and—"

Angela interrupts, "Is there a point to this?" just as Booth urges, "Just tell her already, Bones."

So Brennan takes a deep breath, gives Booth a glance, and says, "Angela, I'm pregnant. With Booth's child."

There's a long silence, almost like the one that followed her announcement to Booth. Angela just stares in open-mouthed disbelief for a long moment, her eyes wide. Behind them, Hodgins protests, "That's impossible. You two would have to be having sex, and we would definitely notice if you were having sex." When neither of them answer, he says, more uncertainly, "We would've noticed, right?"

"Oh my god," Angela breathes, staring straight ahead at the wall. "Oh my god."

"Angela?" Brennan asks in concern. "Are you okay? Was that too sudden?"

"Too sudden?" the artist gasps. "No, sweetie, that wasn't too sudden. It's just that you and Booth…for seven years…and now you're having babies?"

"One," she corrects matter-of-factly. "One baby."

"Oh my god," Angela says, and she bursts into tears.

"Whoa," Booth says, raising eyebrows.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," Brennan says in panic, turning to catch Booth's eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Bones," Booth replies slowly. "I think it's the hormones."

"It's definitely the hormones," Hodgins agrees, still frozen in the doorway. "I mean, the baby, you and Doctor B…Everything's a little too much for her right now. She cries in The Lion King."

"Shut up!" Angela snaps, still crying stormily. Sniffling, she hiccups, "These are tears of happiness, you heartless moron, and everyone cries in The Lion King!"

The three of them stare at her, at a loss, and Michael continues to gurgle happily between Angela's legs.

"She's been like this for days," Hodgins whispers to Booth. "Tell me it stops soon."

Sending him a bland stare, Booth shrugs and replies, "Bones is going to be like this for months. Forgive me if I don't feel sorry for you."

At that, Brennan turns and gives Booth a narrow-eyed look. "Even if I am irrationally affected by the pregnancy hormones, I will never spontaneously burst into tears, Booth."

Just shaking his head knowingly and chuckling, he comes over to kiss her head, which makes Angela sob even harder.

"Oh, you say that now, Bones," Booth laughs. "You say that now."